


Watch Where You're Swinging That Thing, Potter

by dracoismytrashson (JGogoboots)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Blaise is 2000 percent over this shit, Classroom Sex, Crack, Draco Malfoy is a Gay Disaster, Draco can't resist it, First Kiss, First Time, Fluff and Crack, Harry knows exactly what he's doing, Hogwarts Eighth Year, M/M, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-04
Updated: 2019-02-04
Packaged: 2019-10-22 09:07:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17659832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JGogoboots/pseuds/dracoismytrashson
Summary: “Discretion?! Me?!?!” Draco was incredulous. Potter was the one who needed to have some discretion. Potter was the one flouncing about, flaunting that perfect body part like it was his bloody job.“He’s the one who keeps walking around with that obscene thing like he’s trying to goad me into something,” Draco said in a hissing whisper, leaning closer to Blaise as they walked.An Eighth Year fic in which Draco can't stop thinking about Harry's arse, Harry knows it, and Blaise just wants the Earth to open up and swallow him so he doesn't have to watch this idiocy any longer.





	Watch Where You're Swinging That Thing, Potter

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Monday, lovelies! I just finished writing the angstiest/longest fic I've ever written so I decided to pull myself out of the serious mood with this silliness. I hope you enjoy it. Comments and kudos give me life!
> 
> Thank you to [hermione18802](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hermione18802/pseuds/hermione18802) for the beta on this!

Propelled by the motion of the strong thighs it was attached to, it bounced down the hallway, the muscles visibly contracting beneath the obscenely tight fabric stretched across them.

Draco’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly. Potter should have the decency to cover that thing with robes at all times. He shouldn’t be allowed to wear casual clothes. Draco didn’t care if it _was_ the weekend. This was just… _wrong_ for Merlin’s sake. What happened to the baggy hand-me-downs that conveniently used to disguise Potter’s defined arse? Potter needed to dig them out of the depths of his closet right now or Draco’s ever-diminishing sanity would be at risk of disappearing altogether.  

When they came back for eighth year, Potter had become distractingly attractive in all ways, his skin sun-kissed and glowing, his eyes somehow more vibrant than ever. Even his notoriously messy hair looked soft and inviting, just begging for Draco’s hands to card through it. But above all, it was the cheeky git’s stupidly gorgeous arse that had captivated Draco’s attention and refused to let him have a moment’s peace.

It seemed like everywhere Draco went in this blasted castle, Potter and his luscious bottom were waiting around the corner to tempt him. And the worst part of it was that he could swear the sexy prat knew exactly what he was doing. His smirks and raised eyebrows seemed to broadcast a taunting “Like what you see?,” and Draco just _knew_ there was an extra swagger to his step, an exaggerated swaying of his hips that he was most certainly doing on purpose to accentuate that perfectly round hunk of –

“Draco? Earth to Draco! Are you okay, man? You look like you’re trying to bore a hole into – ” Blaise followed Draco’s gaze until his eyes landed on the target of his intense scrutiny.

“Ooohhh, of course. I should’ve guessed,” Blaise said with a knowing chuckle. “If you were any more obvious, you’d be a blinking neon sign. Have a little discretion, mate.”

“Discretion?! Me?!?!” Draco was incredulous. _Potter_ was the one who needed to have some discretion. _Potter_ was the one flouncing about, flaunting that perfect body part like it was his bloody job.

“What about him?!” Draco pointed an accusatory finger at Potter, swiftly lowering it when he noticed people in the hallway had begun to stare. When he spoke again, he was careful to be much quieter.

“He’s the one who keeps walking around with that obscene thing like he’s trying to goad me into something,” Draco said in a hissing whisper, leaning closer to Blaise as they walked.

“Draco, why don’t you just try _talking_ to him? He clearly wants your attention, and seeing as how you’re cocking up my day with rants about his arse, I’d say he’s succeeding. This is getting ridiculous. If I’d known eighth year would be like this, I’d have sacrificed myself to the Dark Lord and been done with it.” Blaise rolled his eyes with an exasperated sigh.

“And give him what he wants? No chance in hell, Blaise. I’m going to beat him at this absurd game of chicken if it’s the last thing I do.” Draco sneered and shook his head as Potter turned around to wink at him. He didn’t know what Potter’s endgame was, but Draco would be damned if he was going to back down from whatever challenge he was issuing with every lewd bounce of that exquisite arse. Blaise slapped a hand over his face.

“I never thought I’d live through the war only to pray for the sweet release of death because of you two idiots.”

 

***

 

Potter walked into the library, and Draco’s head involuntarily lifted as though attuned to his presence. He clutched his quill in one hand and his parchment in the other. He knew he was badly wrinkling the paper in his fist, but he had to hold onto _something_ for dear life. The wanker had the nerve to smirk and _bite his bottom lip._ What was he insinuating by doing that? A string of lurid images filled Draco’s head. He pictured Potter underneath him, stretching his neck back and biting his lip to stifle a moan as Draco thrust into him and –

Draco shook his head vigorously as if to expel the fantasies from his mind. That was obviously what Potter wanted, and Draco wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. Potter looked straight into Draco’s eyes, lifted the book he was carrying to chest level, and released it. As it clattered to the ground, Madam Pince gave Potter a disapproving look, but he didn’t pay attention. Instead, he turned around so Draco had a perfect view of his backside and slowly bent at the waist, shoving that pert arse into the air as he took his sweet time bending down to pick up the book.

Merlin, it was positively pornographic from this angle. He was only a few short feet away. From this distance, Draco could discern every curve of it, and it made his mouth water. Draco felt the back of his neck breaking out in beads of sweat. His cheeks were blazing hot, and while he was aware that his mouth was hanging open, he couldn’t seem to send the signals to his brain to shut it. He had lost all basic motor functions. A low whine of helplessness left his mouth when Potter turned around, spearing Draco with the most shamelessly libidinous look Draco had ever seen. That look should have come with an “explicit” warning. That look should have been illegal in no less than ten countries.

Potter slowly stood up again, tucking the book under his arm and calling over his shoulder in a husky whisper that make Draco’s cock swell, “See you around, Malfoy.” He walked away, that hyperbolic jaunt to his gait as he left the library.   

Draco clenched his fist, and his quill snapped into three pieces.

_Remember the three Cs, Draco. Calm, collected, composed. Harry sodding Potter is not going to win this._

Draco still didn’t know precisely what _this_ was. Did Potter aim to coax him into admitting his attraction only to humiliate him for it? Was he just bored and needed someone to toy with?

All right, that was it.

Draco decided that he wouldn’t let this go on any longer. The next time Potter showed up to shake his arse in Draco’s face, he was going to grab the git by the shirt collar and… and… push him up against the wall and snog him senseless until he fucking begged Draco to – NO. That was most certainly NOT what he was going to do. He was going to demand that Potter tell him what he was up to and put an end to this madness at once.

 

***

 

Draco was muttering to himself, furious that his growing lust for Potter had led him to seek refuge on the Quidditch pitch in the wee hours of the morning. After hours of tossing and turning in his bed, unable to banish the urge to wank off to endless thoughts of Potter and his hands clawing at Draco’s back as he fucked him, Draco had trudged out here. Flying seemed like a good way to expend some pent-up energy. He would be damned if he was going to give into the need for sweet release. He just felt like Potter would somehow _know_ he’d successfully driven him to that depravity, and he couldn’t have that.

Besides, it wasn’t as if he fancied wanking in a room full of his sleeping friends. He could retreat to the showers. That had been his habit in previous years, but what if Potter burst in on him furiously fucking his fist in the corner of a shower stall? The mortification would be unimaginable. Or… maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe Potter would find a wet Draco shrouded in steam the hottest, most irresistible thing imaginable. Maybe he would roughly grab him and shove his back against the tile, the warm spray beating down on their skin as Potter ground his hips, their hard cocks rubbing together as –

Sweet Salazar, Draco was a mess! He had to get a grip. Draco straddled his broom, wincing a bit as his painful erection met the polished wood.

“Fancy a ride, Malfoy?”

_No._

_Really?!_

Draco whipped his head around to find a grinning Potter with a suggestive eyebrow raised, his broomstick clutched in his right hand.

“What in the bloody hell are you – ”

“You didn’t answer my question.” Potter winked. The bloody wanker _winked_.  

“W-what kind of a question is that?! How DARE you ask me – ”

“To fly with me? What’s wrong with that? You already have your broom so clearly you were going to anyway. Thought you might like some company. I come out here when I can’t sleep.” Potter shrugged casually.

“Why? What did you think I was asking for?” Potter queried in an annoyingly coy tone, his head tilting innocently, his forehead wrinkling in feigned confusion.

“You – Potter – I – ” Draco spluttered. He felt his neck growing splotchy, his collar suddenly feeling altogether too tight as he struggled to respond with any measure of coherency. Clearly, Potter wanted him to admit that all Draco wanted to do was fuck his brains out right there on the dirty ground. There was no way Draco would stoop to vocalizing that. If Potter wanted it, _really_ wanted it and wasn’t just trying to embarrass him, then let him be the one to finally say it.

“You are impossible, you know that? Why don’t you tell me what you’re _after_ , following me out here in the dead of night? Dropping books just so you can bend over! Have you no dignity? Or are you just that desperate for it?” Draco quirked one side of his mouth in a crooked smile, regaining his composure. There was a flicker of nerves across Potter’s emerald eyes that was most satisfying.

_Take that, Potter. You’ve met your match._

“I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about, Malfoy.” Potter had the audacity to say it with an air of boredom. He really was incurably rude.

“Ugh, just – I’m going back to bed. I can’t stand the sight of you!” Draco stalked back toward the castle with a frustrated groan.

“I’ll be around if you can’t sleep, Malfoy!”

Draco ignored him and picked up speed. He went to bed with the most aching hard-on of his life.

 

***

 

Draco’s hand was nearly crushing his glass of juice as he watched Potter doing unspeakable things to a peach. The way he bit into it, closing his eyes and moaning as juice dribbled down his chin, made it extremely obvious that he was only doing it to torture Draco in every way possible. He caught Draco’s eye and licked across the exposed flesh of where he had just bitten, lapping at the fruit eagerly, the tip of his tongue massaging the peach the way Draco wanted to massage every goddamn part of him.

Blaise, who was seated to Draco’s left, turned to him, taking in the sight of his gritted teeth and the grip of death he currently had on his glass. Blaise’s eyes astutely looked across the room to find Harry still making love to that piece of fruit.

“All right, that’s it.” Before Draco could protest and tug on Blaise’s sleeve, Draco’s friend was out of reach and approaching the Gryffindor table with frightening speed.

Startled, Potter jumped back as Blaise sat down next to him. They appeared to be exchanging heated words, Blaise wearing a formidable no-nonsense expression, and Harry cowering a bit as though he’d just been scolded. Draco craned his neck as though that would somehow give him better hearing. He silently cursed the din of the Great Hall. It was impossible to catch any snippets of the exchange.

Uh oh, what was this? They were _laughing_ now? And Blaise was playfully slapping Potter on the back? What were they – oh dear Merlin, both of their gazes had shifted over to Draco. Draco pretended to be staring at a very interesting spot in the middle of his mashed potatoes and didn’t look up again until Blaise had slid back into the space next to him.  

“You know the empty classroom in the dungeon where we used to have potions?”

“Yes… why – ”

“You’re meeting Harry there in ten minutes,” Blaise said offhandedly as he plucked a bit of turkey from Draco’s plate.

“Says who? Why would I do anything that prat asks me to? I – ”

“Draco, in the name of Merlin, Salazar, bloody Godric Gryffindor, and everyone else, you’d better do this.” Blaise clamped a gentle but firm hand on Draco’s arm. “If not for yourself, then for the sake of my sanity because I can’t take one more second of this. Watching you two hopeless dolts pining for each other is more painful than a stinging hex to the bollocks.”

Draco sighed and glared at Potter’s self-satisfied smile. He didn’t even bother arguing with Blaise any further. Frankly, he was too tired. Being this bloody horny all the time had sapped every ounce of his energy.

 

***

 

Draco leaned against the large desk at the front of the room, trying his best to stand in a relaxed pose. Potter _would_ leave him waiting despite apparently being the one to request this meeting. Finally, the doorknob jiggled, the door opening to reveal Potter, who had suddenly lost the bravado in his smile. He was looking more like how Draco felt, his eyes flitting about and a blush creeping across his lovely cheeks.

“So,” Potter cleared his throat and moved closer, “Blaise said you wanted to meet?”

“Really?” Draco arched a skeptical brow. He was going to strangle that git when he got back to the Slytherin dorms. “I was under the impression _you_ were the one so full of yearning for my company.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?” The smugness found its way back into Potter’s features, and Draco crossed his arms defiantly. Enough was enough.

“Why are you doing this, Potter? What are you playing at? Trying to humiliate me so you can tell the Weasel and Granger all about it? Have a good laugh in the Gryffindor common room over what a pathetic idiot Draco Malfoy is?”

“What?!” Potter looked taken aback, the space above his nose wrinkling in a way Draco tried really hard not to find endearing. “Of course not. Why would I do that?”

“I – I don’t know. To get back at me for all the years I tortured you?” Draco frowned. He hadn’t expected this. “Why else would you be doing all of this?”

“Because I _like_ you.”

The answer was so sincere and simple, Potter’s eyes exhibiting an earnestness that made Draco’s heart thump in his chest.

“But then why… why were so intent on me being the one to admit it?”

“Because _I_ didn’t want to be humiliated! You have to admit you don’t have the best track record. I know you’re different now, but I had to be sure you really wanted me.” Potter rubbed the back of his neck, his eyes downcast as he traced imaginary patterns in the floor with the tip of his shoe.

_Merlin, we’ve both been trying to force the other to make the first move to save face._

“Blimey, Blaise is right. We’re both hopeless morons.” Draco sighed and ran a hand down his face. Potter laughed softly.

“Kind of hilarious though, isn’t it?” Potter took a few steps closer until they were mere inches apart.

“I suppose there is a certain… farcical nature to the whole thing.” Draco’s pulse quickened as their eyes met. Potter was so close, Draco could smell him. A wisp of aftershave, the peach he’d just eaten and something else pleasantly musky and masculine. It made Draco want to lunge forward and bury his nose in Potter’s neck.

“So formal… you aren’t by any chance _nervous_ … are you, Malfoy?”

Draco sneered and made a huff of protest.

“You wish, Potter.”

And with that challenge, Draco grabbed him by the collar, his hands gathering in the folds of his robes, and crushed his mouth against Potter’s. The answering moan from Potter made Draco’s knees weak. He sagged back against the desk, inadvertently taking Potter with him. Propelled by Potter’s weight, Draco continued to fall backward until he was completely on top of the desk, the two of them sprawled in an ungainly pile of limbs and billowing robes. Potter’s knee dug into Draco’s ribs and something was poking him in the shoulder.

“Ow! What – ” Draco squirmed and reached a hand back to grab whatever was underneath him, finding the sharp point of a quill. He tossed it to the floor, and when he turned back, Potter was all warm smiles and florid skin. It was disarming to see him so close, his green eyes like the blazing flames of a floo, his pink lips moist from their kisses. It made Draco pause, his mind catching up to his brain. As Potter rearranged his legs to straddle him more comfortably, leaning in until his lips were hovering just above Draco’s open mouth, Draco put a hand to his chest. “Should we be doing this here?”

“Right.” Potter nodded vigorously before plucking his wand from his back pocket and casting a _Colloportus_ on the door. “Better?”

_Fuck it. Stop being a worthless prat, Draco. Take this damn gift while it’s still being offered._

“Loads,” Draco replied with a wanton smirk before working at the fastenings of Potter’s robes. Potter’s hands quickly rose to the task as well until both of them were free of the bloody things. Draco had never been so annoyed by the existence of fabric. People shouldn’t wear clothes. Not in a world where Harry sodding Potter and his stupidly perfect body and his infuriatingly gorgeous face existed. If people walked around naked all day, Draco would have been ready to shag Potter at a moment’s notice, and that sounded like a completely rational way to live.

They wriggled out of their jumpers, and Draco only had a brief moment to gasp “Salazar, you look – ” before Potter’s mouth was descending on him again. Draco moaned as Potter’s warm tongue parted his lips, his hands hot and urgent on Draco’s stomach and chest, playing with his sensitive nipples and running over his body as if he couldn’t get enough of Draco’s skin under his palms.

Potter pulled back, spearing Draco with a gaze so intense, it made him quiver in anticipation.

“You insufferable git. Why’d you have to come back looking so… the way you bloody do.”

“At least I haven’t been flaunting my arse all over Hogwarts, you shameless tosser. You should have been expelled for indecency by now. It’s revolting,” Draco spat, slipping his hands into Potter’s back pockets and squeezing that shapely bum he’d been longingly staring at for months now. As he grabbed a handful of his arse, Potter’s hips ground down, their erections colliding and drawing out frustrated moans from both of them.

“If it’s so revolting, why can’t you take your eyes off it, you pointy prat?” Potter asked with another insistent roll of his hips, his tongue trailing down Draco’s neck.

“Sod off.”

“Fuck you.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Draco practically snarled as he claimed Potter’s mouth. He couldn’t get enough of those soft lips, the slick slide of Potter’s tongue dancing across his own as he clutched at his back. They were still wearing too many clothes, and Draco had to see that arse in its full, naked glory. “Take all this off. _Now._ ”

Draco petulantly tugged at the waistband of Potter’s jeans before furiously working at his own flies.

“Bossy,” Potter said with a smile, licking his lips as he obeyed, watching Draco’s every move. They both stood up to shrug out of their clothes.

“You love it.”

“Is that what you think?” Potter asked with an insolent tilt of his head. They looked at one another hungrily for a minute, taking in the sight of their naked bodies. Potter was every bit as flawless as Draco had imagined him, leanly muscular thighs dappled with dark hair, his swollen, red cock jutting from a thatch of hair Draco wanted to nuzzle in. A bead of pearly fluid leaked out of the tip of his hard cock, and Draco’s mouth watered. He wanted to swallow Harry whole, cover his entire body with his greedy mouth, but he still hadn’t seen that shapely prize he’d been dreaming about for weeks on end. 

“Oh, I don’t think so. I _know_ so.” Draco tried for a commanding look, raising an eyebrow and crossing his arms. “Bend over the desk. I want to see that arse you’ve been taunting me with all term.”

Potter’s lips twitched like he wanted to hurl a retort Draco’s way, but then his eyes drooped to half-mast, his lovely mouth parted on a lustful sigh, and Draco knew he’d guessed correctly. Potter walked over to the desk, his eyes fixed on Draco’s right until the moment he turned around and placed his palms flat on the desk and leaned over it, bending at the waist, his arse on glorious, blatant display, his legs lewdly spreading to give Draco a view that made him squeal. He actually _squealed_ , a high-pitched and embarrassingly needy sound that made him wish he could _Obliviate_ Harry’s memory of it. 

But holy shitting fuck and Circe’s tits, who could blame him?! Potter’s arse was distracting enough in jeans, but this?! This was insanity. This was unfair. This arse defied the laws of nature. Draco didn’t know the origin of the golden ratio, but in that moment, he felt certain that it was Harry Potter’s arse. This was pure carnal torment, the likes of which was pumping an endless well of thirst into Draco. He was tempted to look down at the floor to see if he was standing in a puddle of his own drool and precome because he was convinced Potter had made him spring a leak. It was firm and round and tan and begging for Draco’s hand, his mouth, his cock. He wanted to worship every inch of it, wanted to lave the dimples on the side of either cheek with his tongue, tracing the perfect half circle of the crease where the back of his thigh met his arse. Draco wanted to spread his cheeks and bury his face between them, eating his arse until Potter sobbed in desperation, begging for relief.

“Are you going to stare at it all day or are you going to finally get to it, Malfoy?” Potter peered over his shoulder, spreading his legs even wider and thrusting his arse in the air to emphasize his demands.

“Bloody hell, Potter! I could crack walnuts on that arse, you stupidly hot bastard.” Draco approached and ran a careful finger over the curve of it, relishing the way goosebumps rose to the surface of the smooth skin, Potter impatiently shifting against the desk, chasing the friction on his neglected cock. Draco raised his hand and brought it down hard on his left cheek. Potter yelped, but the sound quickly dissolved into a moan. “Look at you squirming, rutting against the desk like an animal in heat. You really haven’t any shame, have you?”

Draco hoped Potter knew he meant that in the best possible way. He was positively enthralled by the image of him, so turned on and aching for it that he couldn’t help but grind against the surface.

“Then why don’t you shut up and give me something to be ashamed about?”

Draco swallowed another mortifying sound bubbling up in his throat and knelt on the floor. Without thinking too hard about it, Draco pried apart his cheeks and licked across Potter’s entrance. He heard Potter moan and lamented that he couldn’t see the moment when his smug countenance gave way to total abandon, absorbed in the pleasure of Draco’s tongue as he began to lap at the tight muscle. He ran his tongue over it again and again, Potter’s delicious moans like music to his ears. 

“Fuck! Always knew your smart mouth was good for something.”

Draco stopped, smirking when Potter let out a plaintive whine. Draco slapped his arse and folded his chest over Potter’s back.

“Not a very nice thing to say if you want to come, Potter. And I know how badly you want that.” Draco pressed kisses on the back of Potter’s neck and shoulders, grinning when he bucked against the desk again. Delivering payback for all the weeks of teasing was a heady triumph. He wanted Potter to beg for it.

“I do. Fuck – please, Draco.” Potter twisted his head around, clumsily crashing his lips against Draco’s. Draco reached back and slid his fingers into the crease of Potter’s arse, lightly stroking across the furled skin. Potter moaned and bucked back into the touch. “I want your fingers inside me.”

Draco blushed, leaning his forehead against Potter’s back to hide it. Merlin, how he’d thought about this every night as he wanked himself raw… The chance to finally have his fingers inside Potter was almost too much. He withdrew, standing up and giving Potter’s arse, now a lovely shade of pink from Draco’s hands, a sinfully long look.

“Turn over.”

Potter did as he was told, and Draco didn’t have to say anything more. Potter spread those sculpted thighs and scooted to the edge of the desk, drawing his knees up as he waited.

Draco groaned and fumbled through his clothes on the floor, searching for his wand. The sight of him so willing and ready was threatening to transform Draco into a stuttering mess, and he couldn’t have that. When Draco found his wand, he took a moment to set his face into a calm mask before he went back to Potter, trying to ignore the way Potter’s naked body turned his insides into warm jelly.

He conjured some lube into his palm and coated his forefinger, smearing Potter’s cock with the rest of it. Draco sighed as his hand met Potter’s cock. Merlin, he felt brilliant in Draco’s palm, hot and throbbing. Draco rubbed circles around Potter’s entrance before pushing in, both of them groaning as he sank into that tight heat. He pushed in and out, moving his finger in time with his strokes on Potter’s cock.

“Yes yes, that’s _so_ good. Just like that,” Potter panted, head thudding against the desk as Draco stroked across his prostate. He looked amazing like this, his eyes squeezed shut, his hands clamped down on his own thighs. Draco added a second finger and was rewarded by a low, guttural moan that made his eyes roll back in his head. Holy fuck, Potter was going to kill him and not in any of the ways people would have expected. He fucked Potter with his fingers, watching him writhe and groan on the desk, his hand furiously pumping up and down his cock, desperate to see him come.

“Come on my hand, Potter. Fuck, I need to see it,” Draco whispered, not sure if Potter had even heard him. He sped up the pace when he saw Potter’s body reacting the same way Draco’s did when he was on the precipice, muscles tightening, cock growing impossibly harder, his breathe coming out in fits and starts.

With a string of curses, Potter spurted, warm and sticky on Draco’s hand, and Draco felt his own neglected cock twitch. They shared a look of sated wonder, and then, with a mischievous grin, Potter pulled Draco’s soiled hand toward him and licked it clean.

Draco’s knees wobbled and his breath hitched. Who knew the Golden Boy was so fucking insatiable? It made Draco picture a hundred perverted scenarios per second. Before he could shake his short-circuiting brain back to reality, Potter was on his knees looking up at Draco with lascivious eyes, running his tongue over his bottom lip like Draco’s cock was the most delectable thing he’d ever seen.

“I keep thinking about sucking your cock. Fuck… it looks so damn good. Can I?” Potter took it in hand, slowly stroking, and waited for Draco’s response.

“Y-yeah you… definitely can,” came Draco’s breathless reply.

 _Nice job sounding completely together, you berk,_ Draco scolded himself.

But Potter didn’t give Draco any time to self-censure. He got to work straightaway, licking along the length, one clean stripe from root to tip, before sucking on the head. Draco’s hands instinctively fell into Potter’s messy curls, his eyes fighting to stay open as Potter hollowed his cheeks, his velvety mouth enveloping half of Draco’s cock.

“Gods yes,” Draco groaned, resisting the urge to thrust into his mouth. Everything was so warm and wet. Draco was about 95% certain he was going to come in record time. Potter hummed contentedly around his mouthful, and Draco felt the sensation reverberating through his cock. He kept bobbing up and down, faster now, covering Draco’s cock in slippery heat. When he nearly swallowed him all the way down, Potter’s nose almost meeting Draco’s small patch of blond hair, Draco knew he was done for. “Oh fuck! I’m going to come, Harry I – ”

He stared up at Draco, sucking harder, his hand reaching around to squeeze Draco’s arse, pushing his cock so far back that he felt the tip of it nudging against Potter’s throat, and Draco spilled in a rush of hot pulses that nearly made his legs collapse under him. Who knew Potter could suck cock like that? Draco’s head swarmed with images of Potter on his knees in every secret nook and cranny of the castle, Draco whisking him off for surreptitious blowjobs at every possible opportunity. They could really have some forbidden fun in a place like this.

But as they stood awkwardly looking at one another, exposed and clearly at a loss for what the hell to do _now,_ Draco felt his eyes turn flinty, the hard set of his jaw returning as he hurriedly threw his clothes back on.

Potter began to dress too, but, to Draco’s astonishment, he was _laughing_ , the barmy wanker. He was looking at Draco like he’d gotten one over on him, and it made Draco want to slap the smarmy grin off his face.

“We are _not_ doing this again, do you hear me, Potter? This was a one off to settle your – your – insipid little game you’ve been playing. That’s all.”

“Oh yes, you really showed me. Making me come so hard I saw stars.” Potter fastened his robes and confidently strode over to Draco, his green eyes unblinking.

Draco almost tripped on that bit. Was it true? He started to smile, but halted the expression, maintaining his sharp look.

“Well, I’m hardly surprised. It’s _me_ , after all. Sorry to rip away the greatest pleasure you’ve ever had, but I’m afraid you’ll be back to wanking now.”

“Of course.”

“ _Never again_ , Potter. I _mean_ it.”

“Right. Absolutely.”

Potter stared at Draco intently, and Draco stared back, neither of them moving toward the door.

“So…” Potter said at last, rubbing the back of his neck, the shyness returning as his shoulders hunched and he looked at the ground. Always such terrible posture with that one. He was going to be bent over at a permanent ninety-degree angle by age thirty if he didn’t do something about that. “See you on the pitch at midnight for round two?”

Suddenly, Potter surged forward and grabbed Draco’s hips, bringing their bodies flush. He smiled like this was the greatest secret he’d ever had, and he was absolutely thrilled by the mere thought of it. It made Draco swoon.

“Bring that luscious arse of yours, and I’ll fuck you anywhere, anytime, Potter. Can’t leave you wanting now that you’ve had the best, can I?”

“Oh shove it up your arse, Malfoy!”

“That’s the idea, Potter.” Draco punctuated that with a slap to Potter’s left buttock, smirking at the sweet little moan it drew from him.

“You’re the most unbearable twat I’ve ever met.”

“Takes one to know one, and The Boy Who Lived to Be an Insufferable Prick certainly should know.”

“More like The Boy Whose Prick You Fucking Live For.”

“Think you’re getting me confused with yourself.”

“Tosser.”

“Pillock.”

Draco was sure he must be an irrevocably, disgustingly twisted person if his cock was rapidly filling out because of an insult exchange with Harry Potter. Then again, if he was being totally honest, this was far from the first time that had happened. Not to mention that, judging from the way Potter was breathing hard and biting his lip, making Draco want to chew on it while slapping that muscular globe of perfection again, he was getting off on this too.

“I’ll be counting down the hours, Malfoy.”

“Of course you will. This is the best thing that’s ever happened to you.”

Draco heard Harry snort with laughter as he walked away. This time, Draco let _Harry_ be the one to watch him sashay away, his hips swinging, his arse jutting out as he made his way to the door, turning around for one last alluring look.

As Draco strolled down the hallway, he was on cloud nine, victorious and untouchable. He barely even registered the loud “Merlin’s saggy ball sack, they actually did it. Help us all!” from Blaise as he groaned and cradled his head in his hands. 

**Author's Note:**

> I'm [dracoismytrashson](https://dracoismytrashson.tumblr.com/) on Tumblr if you'd like to say hello!


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